


Good Luck Chéri

by Milchtee



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Ballet, College, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Romance, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Top!Cas, artist!Cas, bottom!Dean, but they probably switch, dancer!dean, flowershop, sam is a coffee thief, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5151695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milchtee/pseuds/Milchtee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an artist fails to get the right inspiration and his beloved barista fails him and gives away his coffee, what else could he do than giving in? Castiel struggles to find a proper idea for his a semester work, when he meets Sam he quickly learns that if you befriend one Winchester you have to know the other half too. Yet it’s pretty hard to spend time with Dean who isn’t just weird for his way to pronounce waffles but for the fact he spends all his time in the studio to practice his dancing skills. Soon enough Castiel finds a way to still spend time with the older brother and new inspiration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Luck Chéri

**Prologue**

 

 

 

Castiel hated winters. He always did, well not always but for quite a long time.  
Everything started two years ago when he was the complete opposite of his current self.  
Two years ago he’d jump into the air when the shops finally put up the christmas stuff like delicious sweets, candy bars, the silly angels with the bubbly butts and the cute fat rolls on their stomachs, even the reindeers and the lights, everything could make him so happy he once scared an old lady so bad he had to apologize to her a thousand times until he could leave her.  
The man shook his head disbelieving of how he has used to be, now he felt a burning sting when he looked into the windows of the shops. Everywhere he looked people were busy celebrating the upcoming holidays. There was nobody who seemed to be annoyed of the rushed people or the sickly sweet smell lingering in the streets.  
Castiel however felt annoyed, he wanted to stick his finger up his nostrils to block the smell but that would eventually end in another disaster if he really did so. People would probably look at him and think he’s gone mad and perhaps he might be. After what happened to him two years ago he wasn’t sure himself if his head was still working right.  
Nevertheless he was aware that sticking his fingers into his nose right here in a crowded street wouldn't end so well, so he just buried his face in his thick scarf that only the area of his forehead and his blue eyes were visible to the others.  


Why was the smell even everywhere? 

Every corner of this street had the same lightning, the sweet smell of cinnamon and chocolate, like freshly baked cookies and happiness, just like _him_.  
Castiel squints his blue eyes unhappy about it, his brother would ask him if he was in need of glasses if he was there but he wasn’t and Cas crossed his finger that it would stay this way. 

No need for a noisy brother who drags him to one shop to another, no pause in between and always urged to voice his unwished opinion.  
It wasn’t like he didn’t love his brother, he loves him dearly, sometimes however he was just too much to handle and Castiel’s nerve costume was so fragile lately he surely would explode at the slightest hint of a stupid comment, he just knew.  
All of this because of _him,_ someone who promised him two years ago they would have the best christmas eve ever. And what happened to it? 

He still remembers every little detail of it as if it was just yesterday, for him it was like yesterday. Since two years he wasn’t able to move on and forget about it.  

The entire world has stopped moving around him, no it wasn’t the world which stopped moving, it was him.  
Castiel stopped to move on, go on with his usual routine of going out for coffee or having those heated arguments with his bother about the importance of art in the new modern times.

But he wanted to, he really did but it seemed that every single time when the snow was falling down and winter was coming back to town he had to fall back into the deep dark hole of his chest.

His fingers were icy cold, already turned purple because he’s holding his sketchbook to tight to his body.  
His muse was gone, inspiration lost and what was left were the hundredth of empty pages in his sketchbook. Not a single drawing fulfilled his liking.  
Nothing came close to the drawings he could bringto life years ago.  
That must be the art block people were always talking about.  
All he had left for this people was a bitter laugh, whenever they tried to help him out with tips like go out, take your time everything will be fine and in no time you’re back on track with painting!  
Always being different from others it was no surprise he was again a lost cause, the only one who could bring back his inspiration was the one who’d taken it from him three years ago.

 

 

 

**_______________________ ** good luck cheri **________________________ **

 

 

 

**Chapter 1.**

 

 

Painting is easy when you don’t know how, but very difficult when you do.

 

The first time Castiel has met the other man was 2 months ago.  
One of the last sunny days of the year in September.  
At this time he was about to take his favorite seat in the crowded coffeeshop near his apartment to get some work done. He loved the atmosphere which surrounded him in the _Leonardos_. Chatting girls who didn’t even try to be calm about their ramble of the boyfriend of one of the girls, or the new pair of shoes, brand new and a total must have for every modern woman.  
Yes,if Castiel were a writer he’d probably filled a book with stories about their lives but he didn’t chose the hard path of a writer,he decided it would be the best to chose another almost impossible way to make a living of. Since High School he knew what he wanted, art was everything to him.  
When other kids his age would go out, get drunk and eventually make-out in dirty toilet stalls he was at home or the near coffeeshop to paint them, people.  
It has always been people, he couldn't explain why, it was just that he found them very interesting. How they started to act whenever they’d meet someone new or when they were once free from any social boundaries and real. Surprisingly Castiel didn't catch it often, most of the time they were playing a role, always bound to it with no room to break free from the norms.  
For him it was easier to be himself, Castiel was no one who could teach manners or social norms to another human being, he sucked at them greatly. To his defense he’d never really tried to make it work.  
Family and a tiny circle of friends was all he ever needed to get trough his life.  
Not everyone was a social butterfly, always needy to be around people to be happy.  
He rather enjoyed the peace and calmness, what didn’t mean he didn't know how to have fun. Sometimes he’d go out with his few friends and get a drink, maybe two or even a number he wouldn't recall the next morning.

As an artist he was capable of fulfilling the norms of being weird and whatsoever they loved to say about creative ones when they had a chance to.

Here in his favorite coffeeshop the entire crew knew him, they wouldn't go and judge, sometimes they would come to him, look at what he’s drawing and then leave him alone with a hot cup of coffee. They stopped asking what he wants and he stopped begging them to not give him coffee for free.  
His purse however was quite happy about the change of not having to pay for every cup of coffee.  
Money was a serious issue for him after he left his family house, they’d always supported him with the right amount of money to get into college and to study art even though they hated it. All they ever wanted for him was to study medicine, get straights A’s and to become a respectful doctor in a big well-known hospital.  
Way too early he crushed their dream and even now they would bring up the topic of him being a wonderful doctor.  
Truthfully, he liked the idea of him being a doctor, he almost pushed his wish to become a real artist away once but soon he realized it was not what he truly wanted for his life.Mom and Dad had to understand it was his life, and to not make the situation more awkward he didn’t run to them for money.  
Of course they still paid his apartment across the street of the coffeeshop but he always declined a financial shot when they met every second weekend in the month to keep up with each others lives.

 

„I thought you wouldn't come today so I gave your Macchiato with the extra shot of hazelnut syrup away a minute ago to some handsome dude with a big smile and dimples.“  
„You did what?!“ his face shots up, his blue eyes wide in shock that his friend for 3 years failed him so miserably.  
„Wow calm down! It was just coffee and I didn't know if you would show up and he had dimples!“  
The young woman wiggles suggestively with her eyebrows at him, her long blonde hair is curly and cups her delicate frame perfectly.

„Who cares about dimples? It was mine Jess…“ he sighs loudly and puts down his jacket on the seat next to the table, on the other he plumps down like a wet sack of potatoes. Jess, the barista and one of the few friends of Castiel, shrugged her shoulders.

„Dimples Cas, dimples! Nothing can beat that alright? It wasn't my fault I was weak. Just let me get you your coffee how does that sound?“

„Perfect and I’m not upset, just… don’t know…stressed.“ 

He lifts his hands and rubs over his tired eyes, maybe he was overreacting and Jess didn't want to mess with him, all she had done was to give his coffee away to some guy with freaking dimples. He would never understand why Jess loves dimples so much, alright they could look cute but there are prettier things in the world than dimples. For example he loves even skin, with no little irregular dot. Everything must look like it was carved out of stone and he was happy.  
He loved to paint realistically and most of the time only woman would match his categories which made him upset from time to time.

As much as he found the anatomy of the female body fascinating they couldn't reach the graze and outstanding beauty ofa males body.

Maybe someday he would find the perfect male model who agrees to model for him for a painting. For now he was just waiting for a hot cup of coffee.

In the meantime his eyes were fixated on the table across the café. Two men were sitting at it, both of them were ridiculously tall but only one of them hit the impossible mark.

If Castiel’s eyesight didn't play tricks on him than one of them must be the guy with the dimples. Yes. he must be, holding the cup on which his name was once written. Jess had stroked out his name and written the name of the guy beneath. 

_Sam_ , aha Cas thought with no real emotion on his face, except for the tiny frown. A habit he picked up a few years ago. The eye squinting was another habit he would like tot take off but it was too hard to resist the urge to just squint at everything what just didn't make sense to him.  
And a lot of things didn't made quite much sense in hispoint of view.

As the incredible tall guy starts laughing at something the other man said to him Castiel’s eyes wavers away from them. At least he enjoyed his coffee.

„There it is Cas. Freshly brewed and with even more hazelnut syrup.“ she smiles brightly at him as she sits down on the seat across the table. Now she's able to look at Castiel and the other two guys in the back, yet arguing over a movie. Castiel wasn't really paying attention to them, they were just to loud to not notice.

„Thank you a lot. Might kill me with all the sugar in it though.“ Castiel takes the spoon to swirl through the brown liquid in his cup.   
A pretty swirl appears at first then the brown mixes with the white and ends up more lightly colored than before.  
To not waste any good froth he licks it off the spoon what makes Jess chuckle softly.  

„Don’t,a little sugar won’t kill you. How’s the work doing by the way?  
Have you already decided what you’re final project will be about?“ she asks him with a more serious look on her face. Castiel though has to shake his head and the sweet taste of the froth suddenly tastes bitter on his tongue.  
Since they had announced the final project for the semester he’d struggled to find good inspiration for it. The freedom they offered their students was great and he loved being free to do whatever he wants with his art.But in times with absolutely no trail of inspiration he’d rather spend the time with other students with the same task as everyone else than having to come up with an original idea he wasn't capable of thinking of at the very moment.

„No I guess I just make a photoset of ways to slowly kill myself and when I’m done and dead you’ll hand them in for me. Sounds like a plan doesn’t it?“ his sarcasm is strong what happens all the time when he has no clue what to do with his art. He’s the moody type when it comes to lacking inspiration.  
Whenever he loses it he feels discontent, as if somethings is missing from him. An important part of him is cut off and he can’t find it to put it back where it belongs.

Jess knows him and only shrugs it off with a little sigh on her pink lips, glossy with lip balm to attract attention to their fullness.   
The leaves had started to fall down and everything is colored in golden colors. It’s a beautiful scenery what could give every artist more than they could beg for, likewise Castiel steps out of the group like usual.  
Brightly colored trees and the fallen leaves, hand holding couples walking in the park just couldn't give him what he wants to head into the right direction.

Obviously he has to come up with something before the semester break waits for him until then he only has a few weeks left.   
„You’ll get an idea eventually… just don’t give up. In the end if nothing works come here with your sketchbooks and we look through it together and take old ideas and revive them. Somehow we make it work.“ Jess offers him an earnest smile and he’s aware the she’s honest with him. She wants to help him and he isn’t sure what he did to deserve her as a friend. Jessica is just too good to be true.  
And just as Castiel opens his mouth to answer her one of the men of the other table comes to them and he closes his mouth. Not that he cares about the first impression Meg always insists is so important.  
The guy is with the tall beast who has stolen his coffee!  
Who could blame him for not faking his best Sunday smile to beat every actor for the toothpaste ads they show on TV all the time.

„Sorry but my brother over there is too shy to ask- OW!“ the guy suddenly yells out in pain and the reason is easy to tell,the tall beast or his brother whatever he wanted to call him, stood behind him and smacked him across the back of his head.  
The smaller guy caressed his own head with a pout on his plump lips.  
„Hey why did you hit me?“ he asks his brother with an angry look on his face, the pout still visible on his lips.

The other guy just glares back at him and purses his lips in a thin line.

„Because you deserved it man!  
I’m sorry for him. It’s just that he has the urge to embarrass me whenever he gets the chance to.“ 

„Sure Sammy, I just wanted to start a conversation you were not going to start.“ the brother of Sam the coffee thief defends himself and Castiel feels like he’s trapped in the wrong movie.   
Jess though smiles at the whole scene in front of them with a bright and honest smile that brights up the entire café.  
„Oh my god you’re too adorable guys. Sit down then we have a conversation.“ she ends the awkward staring contest and ignores Castiel who throws an outraged look at her as soon the two guys sits down at their shared table. He just hopes Jess doesn’t have to get back to work so soon otherwise he’s stuck with two strangers he has no idea what he should talk about with them.

At least he still has his cup of coffee in front he quickly grabs and sip at it to avoid any talk.  
„Uhm… hi I’m Sam by the way.“ the tall guy then breaks off the silence and Jess still smiling nods.  
„I know that I haven’t forgot your name in barely 15 minutes or so.  
I’m Jessica but just call me Jess.“ the reply of her is fast and then the other guy raises his voice, but of course he has to give his brother a stupid look because of Jess’s counter.  
„Dean and you Mr. Grumpy over there?“  
With that he stares straight at Castiel who chokes on his coffee. Suddenly he wants to die even before he has written down several ways to die.  
This way he doesn’t have to handle the semester project, a win win situation!  
Jess gently hits him on his back to help him get air back into his lungs and with teary eyes he looks back at the grinning guy.  
„Castiel…. Castiel Novak.“

 

________________ good luck cheri  ____________________

 

 

Two months ago Castiel has met Dean on the last day of September.   
It was a rainy day and he still could taste the hazelnut syrup and embarrassment he had felt said day.  
Two weeks in which he’d met him several times, at first it was pure coincidence.  
Sam loved the coffeeshop just as much as he loved the blonde barista and sometimes he would bring his brother along.  
He shared good talks with Sam about various books and also art, Castiel was pleased of how much knowledge Sam could offer about art and they eventually started to hang out more together.

Apparently the brothers shared a deep bond with each other, which means, if you befriend one of the Winchester, you’ll get the second one free. However, Dean was different from Sam.  
Compared to his brother Dean would barely spend the same amount of time with them like Sam did. Nor did he come as often. Dean often leaves after a short while to do whatever he does.  
Castiel didn't know, he didn't ask and so there was no answer for it.  
Why would Dean come and explain to him, why he was acting like that?  
The other guy probably had a good reason for it so Castiel was no one to question him. It was up to Dean if he wanted to talk and if he didn’t like to spend time with Sam and Castiel together he was free to ditch them whenever he was feeling like it.  
The young artist wouldn't blame him for it, it was okay.  
They weren't friends after all.

 

That thought changed a week later when he was working his usual shift in the flower shop a lovely old lady ran.   
It wasn't uncommon that from time to time people would crush into the store and ask for the biggest and most beautiful bouquet which shouldn't cost that much though. Castiel could tell stories about this kind of people and once again the thought of becoming a writer crossed his head.  
It was nonsense but with what he had already seen in his life he could fill books in no time.  
As he was giving the wedding bouquet a last touch up to fit the brides expectations, a familiar figure has stormed into the flower shop and Castiel lifts his head in surprise, eyebrows followed quickly as he turned around so he could still catch a glimpse of the person.  
He was right, it was indeed a very familiar figure, it was nobody else than Dean Winchester, Sam’s big brother and the mystery of Castiel’s head ever since he had met the man.

„Dean what are you doing here?“ 

Someone should pat his shoulder for this incredible smart question to a person which visits a flower shop, he has all right to congratulates himself mentally.  
Once again he has managed to top his record for the worst conversation starter ever and he’s glad Dean’s still holding his sides and breathing out heavily, as if he had just finished a marathon. The man is completely out of breath what turned his cheeks a more healthy colour, now they look like sweet little apples.  
A bright red tone has spread across his cheeks and nose area and for the first time since they’d met Castiel takes notice of the tiny irregular freckles on top of Deans face.

„Fl- Flowers…. god…. I think I’m dying…. Quick I need a big one nothing to fancy though. Just a little bit off-„   
Dean starts helplessly but Cas quickly cuts him off as he lifts his right hand to help the man to calm down as he let his finger slide down his arm up and down in a slow manner.  
„Slowly Dean. We got this. First take a breath and I see what I have for you.“ he dragged Dean away from the entrance to make him sit next to the checkout on the wooden bench where he stops touching him. 

It must be weird otherwise, Castiel wasn't the touchy type of guy, he enjoyed a certain personal space and with Dean he crossed the line a moment ago and now he would go back to his usual rules and to his job here.  
The shop is colored in white, like the bench and everything else in the room, from the shelves to the sink in the back. The only contrast to the sterile colour are the flowers.  
This way they would be able to stick out more and be in the attention center of the costumers.  
People would notice their true beauty and in fact, Castiel likes the plain easiness which comes from the white interior design in the flower shop, _Lettre d’amour,_ quite a lot.

Dean is watching Castiel as he walks through the shop, too busy to scan every flower to combine them in his head which would make a proper bouquet, to notice that Dean was staring at him.  
How small his steps get when he comes closer to a flower he likes or when he speeds up to get to the next flower pot.  

Among all those beautiful flowers he feels so comfortable and on ease his whole body gives the signs away.  
He doesn't notice it anyway, how Deans eyes follow him, how they rest on his long fingers as he plays with the petals of a blue lily. The movements so playful it leaves him staring at the artist.  
Then Castiel makes an annoyed sound which breaks Dean’s attention off of his hands.  
He isn't sure what to create for Dean, well he doesn't even know what kind of message the flowers have to deliver and so it’s too hard to make a decision based of his own liking of random flowers.  
„How about you tell me for which exact reason you need the flowers? It’ll make it easier for me to pick them out.“ Cas turns around on his heels to face the freckled man who was still staring at him shamelessly, at least until Dean realizes how inappropriate it is and he shifts uncomfortably on the bench.Like a kid which got scolded doing something bad and unwished.

Awkwardness, pure and idiotic awkwardness fills the room between them and he clears his throat to break it.  
There was no need for such a weird atmosphere around them.  
Castiel was just asking a simple question and it was more confusing for him to see Dean so rushed and stressed at the same time than all the unspoken questions he had for the man.  
„Thank you? Something that shows I appreciate her and maybe that she likes me more after?Can you do this? Are there even flowers for this kind of thing? If not then just take some roses. Woman like them or not?“  
Dean really has no idea about flowers and it hurts Castiel to listen to him. He squints at him disbelieving of what he just has listened to. It was nonsense that all woman loved roses, but alike many other clichés and common mistakes he just decided to ignore it as best he could.  
„Uhm… roses are not the usual kind of flowers I’d pick for gratitude Dean.  
Roses are well known to symbolize love what isn't wrong, but and this is important it has something to do with the colour you choose.“ he corrects the other man.

„If you wish to still give her roses than I recommend pink roses to you as they stand for gratitude.  
The regular red rose stands for love likewise as the white ones but they could also stand for purity. I’ve always thought it was fascinating that the same colour could hold the same meaning like the white and red rose.“ 

the young artist goes on, with his blue eyes fixated on the white roses to his right, his costumer slightly tilts his head.

„See, ifI give you a bouquet of white and red roses it could mean unity, that I want to be with you for eternity, while the simple red is only the messenger of love, it could be a liar. And white alone well, only an unsure lover in the distance, too shy to act.“  
Castiel doesn't even realize that he has lost track of the real important things in the moment while talking about the meaning of roses. The moment he does however his cheeks turn immediately into a pinkish colour what makes them more rosy than before, defeated he throws an apologetic look at Dean.  
„I am so sorry! It happens from time to time that I loose myself in _this_.“, he waves his hand weirdly and to fast to point to all the flowers around Dean and him, that he must look like a fool. And he feels like one.

„No it’s okay bud. Just don’t use roses okay? Maybe if there is a flower similar to them and I don’t care about the colour use them. Everything is fine for me honestly.“ 

Dean helps him out and Castiel nods understanding what the other one wants from him. One of them was capable of saying something insightful in this situation. He quickly moves on to get a bouquet ready.  
It’s an easy decision for him, after the little talk, if Dean wants no roses but a flower similar to them there is one simple sibling of them he could instead.  
It’s a special kind of flower, more known in countries like Korea and Japan, nevertheless the old Lady Maria loves them so much she did everything to get them, the Camellias, into her own flower shop here in Boston.

Castiel is silent as he wraps the flowers carefully into paper to protect them from damage after he arranged them prettily, if Dean proceeds to run around like a maniac.  
It’s not on purpose he doesn't spare the other man a quick peek, he's working and Dean is quiet as well, at least as long as he speaks up.  
„I didn't know you're working here. I wouldn't had expected it but it suits you though.“ he mumbles under his breath, not sure if the conversation is wanted from Castiel who doesn't give an answer right away.  
He takes his time to make sure the flowers really are protected and look good to let them go out in the world to deliver the message of saying _Thank you_.

„Well it’s a wonderful opportunity to pay for college and my apartment.   
Here you go. Have fun with it and I wish you best luck with making her like you more.“  
Dean earns an honest smile of Cas as he pays for the flowers and grabs them, his eyes never leaving the other pair in the purest blue he has ever seen.  
Their fingers brush slightly and even after Dean left the shop Cas still felt the tingling sensation in his fingertips. 

It came so abruptly and it was gone just as fast, it left him dumbfounded.

 

It took him about five minutes until he noticed the horrible and disastrous mistake they had made.  
Instead of the bouquet which consists of pinkish Camellias, Dean had taken the other one, the wedding bouquet! God may be with Castiel in this moment because he feels like he’s falling out off all clouds, with no soft landing on the stone hard ground.  
„No! Please don’t!“ he cried out horrified at the sight in front of him. He dared another look at the flowers to make sure his eyes aren't playing with him but still,it remains the same set of Camellias and not the fancy bouquet of roses and other similar kinds.  
It already has happened so often in his life that he has no luck,but if he wants to survive for another month he should hurry. With no further hesitation he turned the sign around at the doorwhichsaid ‚ _closed_ ’ and left the shop in a rush.  
Maria will kill him for sure and the bride might happily join her! Everybody knows you should never in your entire life anger a bride!  
It’ll be probably the last thing you do in your life and Castiel is not interested in making such an experience.  
Not today he still needs to find a good idea for his semester work, so he wasn’t allowed to die because of Dean’s clumsiness.  
As fast as the lightning he’s out on the streets, he turns his head right and left to check for any traffic, yet the road is oddly calm and he proceeds to run into the directionhe has seen Dean disappear.

The only fortunate event is that not so much time has passed since the guy has left with the wrong flowers.

A little strain of hope sparked up inside his chest and he quickens his steps.

If he was lucky he would catch him before the disaster would get it’s chance to start.   
Even then as Castiel’s already out of breath he runs down the street where he had seen a familiar head with dirty blonde locks.  
It must be him!  
There was no one else with such a stupid hoodie on which a fat moose was carrying a squirrel around on it’s back, beneath the animals in big uneven letters _AC/DC._  
There was no question it was self-made but right now Castiel couldn't care less about the abstract and ugly design, all what mattered was to catch Dean before he would arrive at his checkpoint. Wherever it might be.  
„Dean! Dean!“ 

Castiel shouts at the top of his lungs but his words were cut off by the noise all around him. The people were especially noisy today and the traffic has just started to go mad.  
Just like every common afternoon when people were driving back home or into the city to their next appointment. Boston was a big difference to the small city Castiel grew up.  
He prayed mentally that some kind of generous god might help him out and make Dean stop in his walk but no, as usually Cas had the bad luck on his side.  
All he could try was to ignore the stabbing pain in his sides from breathing too sharp and incorrect, and follow Dean to wherever the man was running to.

His body would appreciate the little workout as he was no big fan of doing these activities besides bicycling.

Where was his bike right now when he could use it for a good reason? Right, he left it at the Lettre d’amour and forgot about it in his rush.

  
The area wasn't so unfamiliar to Castiel so he slightly assumed where Dean was heading to.  
Here was a well known College located for dance and it would make pretty good sense to Castiel actually. Dean has wanted the flowers to impress a girl!  
She must be a dancer then and it was just plain common sense that dancers loved to be spoiled from secret or no so secret admirers.

Well good for him he was now able to run into a certain direction and not like before right into the blue with no clue where Dean could be.  
His running stops when he has arrived at the main entrance where Dean has disappeared. Castiel’s gaze wanders down to the bouquet in his hand, the poor flowers had to suffer a lot.  
Hopefully the mysterious girl will still like them.  
This thought reminded him of his real mission here and he slips through the massive door.

 Aimlessly he looked for a hint of Dean in the enormous hallway, but he couldn’t find one, so he just made a quick decision to walk down the only floor which leads to several other rooms. 

Maybe practice rooms Castiel assumed and peeked into the only room where the door wasn't completely closed,there was still a little gap and light was breaking through followed by the melody of a smooth rhythm . 

He tucks his head quietly in between the door and the gap to catch sight of what’s happening in the room. In his entire lifetime he’s never been to a dance school so it was surprisingly interesting to catcha glimpse of their lives.

The room though was empty except for a figure standing in the shadows, playing with the CD player until the music changed to a more softly melody. The person took a few steps towards the large mirror which was taking in a whole side of the wall in the room. Before the mirror they’d placed a high ballet bar.

The person carried a calm aura around and with the firstslow movement with the ballet bar Castiel could make out who the person really was.  
Besides the CD Player lied the flower bouquet and he should interfere in the scene but he was petrified. His legs weren't listening to him and his eyes were glued on Deans body.

Castiel didn’t know much about ballet, actually he knew nothing more about it than that it was difficult to achieve the basic skill and most ballet dancers were cursed with too high expectations which sometimes lead to eating disorders.

But here was Dean who stood in front of the large mirror, his legs were closed and his feet apart… how could he manage to stand like that and not lose his balance?

The worst was that his toes were pointing at the opposite walls of the room and his back looked way too relaxed to be comfortable in this position. Then he reached for the ballet bar with his left hand and raised his right arm gracefully. The way he stretched his fingers made them appear so long and thin Castiel was taken back. 

It was not like he’d never seen dancers before, or ballet dancers to be exact, but this was different for him. When he’d met Dean he didn't thought he would happily dance ballet in his free time, in one of the most popular colleges for dance in the US.

Dean was like the kind of guy who would enjoy mechanical stuff, cars and dirt, not the neat and elegant world of ballet. It was like that two complete opposites crashed into each other and the broken pieces of the mess were lying on front of the young artist in form of Dean.

A few things became more reasonable for Castiel which weren't before, like the fact Dean wasn't spending so much time with Sam and him.Not because he didn't like to spend time with them but he just had not enough time. And the time he has he must divide between his dance practice and studying. 

If Dean reallywas studying.He wasn't seeing the other in his room studying.  
Castiel had his doubts about it but for Dean’s defense he wasn't expecting the other man to dance, and especially not ballet. Therefore he was open for another surprise.

Though he wasn't so sure if he could take another one for today, and still he was staring at the other man in awe.  
Dean was now standing in a straight line in front of the bar, both of his hands were holding it and his knees were in the same line like his toes were pointing too. It was so confusing for Castiel too just watch and try to understand every movement. It still amazed him and he couldn't shake himself off of the spell he was in.

How was it possible for Dean to hold his upper body in the same position while he was going down with his knees that a big diamond-shaped gap formed between his legs?  
He did a set of this move and his toes were the only part of his feet which touched the ground underneath. It wasn’t his whole feet just the toes and he was so comfortable with it that Castiel almost believed he felt no pain. After three sets of it he tops it with his knees wider spread apart and lower than before. 

Castiel could guess the time he was already standing here like a creeper if he wanted but it was Dean’s fault who was dancing here for himself and distracting him.

Dean was lost in his own world and he didn't realize Castiel was there.  
Not even then as the artist closed the door behind his back, he made a sound to draw attention to his presence.

The sounds wasn’t even that loud, a shy cough, Castiel’s throat was too dry and his hands were shaky. 

He could not even tell anyone why he felt that way. It was confusing and the fact Dean had turned around wasn’t making it any better.  
He has to fight his instincts telling him to leave the room immediately but he already startled Dean, whose green eyes were wide and his shoulders tense.  
„I’m…. uhm you have the wrong flowers.“  
Nothing else than this popped up inside his head, unable to connect his brain to his actions. 

Dean still hesitates to lift his gaze so their eyes could meet midway.  
„Oh… sorry.“

One thing was clear, if it wasn't Castiel who caused awkwardness then it was the other way around, Dean was as skilled as him.

„Let’s exchange the bouquets then so there’s no misunderstanding for the girl.“ 

Cas has passed the short distance between him and the CD player where Dean had put down the wedding flowers, he takes up into his arm to bring them to the other man.  
Neither of them dares to look up into the face of the other and maybe it’s better that way Castiel thinks silently to himself.  
It was unspoken but he was sure that he crossed a tight line Dean had crossed between his personal life and the life he was willing to share with friends and Cas wasn't even sure if Dean thought of him as a friend.

„It’s for my instructor actually. Let’s sayI should work hard to get on her good side. She hates the fact I refuse to take part in the upcoming play.“ the taller man invites him into his world, it’s a small step into a different place and Castiel is careful to not step on a sensitive spot.  
The chances were high Dean would just close himself up again and never talk about his dancing again to Castiel and as weird it must sound, even for Cas himself, he liked what he see.  
The aura around Dean was so breathtaking and graceful he couldn't put it into words.  
When he was drawing he always loved to use people as his object of the composition but none of them were ever as interesting like the scene Dean had offered him.  
A lot of them had tried to look especially interesting and pretty which turned into a boring and fake looking painting of them.  
With the new pictures of Dean’s dancing his mind was chaotic place, everything was messy and unorganized he must collect his thoughts and create a simple line of possible drawings. 

The information that the girl which Dean wanted to impress was nobody but an instructor has flown away, never really hit him in the first place until he felt Dean’s strong gaze on him and his face flushed a pinkish colour.

„I guess she will like them Dean. There’s no reason to worry but I’m rather confused you don't want to take part in a play. You’re dancing looks so good!“ he pauses in between, suddenly aware of how his words must come over to him, then again Dean had danced so well why shouldn't he be allowed to tell him?

„My dancing? I wasn't dancing, it was my warm-up routine and you’ve even interrupted me doing it.“ Dean laughs at him for his assumption. He’d thought it was dancing, it looked pretty fine and complicated to him already.   
If this was just his warm-up routine Castiel would love to see more of it.  
What else Dean was capable of doing with his body, what kind of language he could speak with his bare motions.

„You actually enjoy to make me feel like an idiot don't you? I have absolutely no knowledge about dancing or ballet so go easy on me. If it’s okay for you I’d like to watch you.“ he admits softly, but right after he’d said those words he regrets them as Dean’s expression changes into distress.

„Another time Cas.“

 

Even though Dean apparently had turned him down he didn't had the feeling like it. Sure, it was odd but he felt good and somehow excited when he was imagining the day Dean was ready to show him his real dancing.  
For now it was enough to put a wide smile on Castiel’s face as he was running back to the flower shop.  
When he arrived he was searching the upper drawer of the desk for some pencils and he found one, no eraser but he wouldn't look a gift horse into the mouth, there was some paper and he wouldn't need more at the moment.

Just then he started to sketch out what he has seen just a while ago in the dim practice room.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying my best to avoid mistakes as good as possible, yet english isn't my native language so please if you're kind enough I'm looking for a beta.  
> Please help me out I would appreciate it and shower you with a lot of love and everything you need^^


End file.
